Never Is A Promise
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: I'm so sorry..." That was all she had heard all night. Couldn't they think of anything better to say than that regurgitated reassurance? It was like everyone was standing in a line and took turns saying that, only to repeat the process all over again.


A heartbreaking piece I wrote while watching King Of The Hill. LOL. No idea why. This is story number 290, and a real tear jerker. So if you don't have any Kleenex, grab some and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

CICICICICICICICICICICICI

She couldn't lose him.

All around her people were talking softly, as though they didn't want to bother her. What they didn't seem to notice was that she was in shock, not deaf and blind. And every now and then someone would approach her and touch her shoulder, as if they didn't know what the hell to do in this situation.

"He's a fighter. He'll be okay."

That was all she had heard all night. Couldn't they think of anything better to say than that regurgitated reassurance? It was like everyone was standing in a line and took turns saying that, only to repeat the process all over again.

She leaned forward in the chair, resting her blond head in her hands. If one more person touched her, she would scream. Right now, all she wanted was for her husband to touch her, to take her in his arms so she could hear his heart beating and feel him breathing. Unconsciously she wrapped her arms around her abdomen, holding herself as she started to rock back and forth in the hard, unforgiving chair.

A doctor wearing bloody scrubs came in and called out her husband's name, but she didn't hear him. She could only hear his voice as he whispered her name in bed, as he cooked her breakfast while she slept in on Sundays.

Finally someone touched her shoulder, and she looked up. Seeing the doctor, she sprang to her feet. "Is my husband okay?"

She suddenly felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room when the doctor gave her a sympathetic look and motioned for her to follow him. Her feet felt heavy and clumsy as she finally started to walk.

No words registered as he led her down to the ICU and to her husband's bed. She slowly sat down in the chair beside him and took his hand as she studied his pale face. A tear rolled down her cheek and hit her leg without her knowing it. They had only been married for two years. He had to be okay. They were supposed to have kids, to see grandkids, and grow to be an old, wrinkled couple in rocking chairs. He wasn't supposed to die like this. Not this young, and not like this.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. But your husband probably won't survive the night."

She spun around in her chair and glared at him as tears dripped down her cheeks. "You don't know that! You don't know him!" He didn't. He didn't know her husband. He didn't know how strong and caring he was. He would never leave her. He promised.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and gently squeezed her shoulder, then left her alone with her husband.

She squeezed his hand, then brought it up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. "Please... Please don't leave me," she whispered as more tears spilled from her hazel eyes. "Please."

She remained at his side through the night, and she watched in sorrow as he continued to deteriorate. She couldn't believe, in her heart, that he was leaving her. She tried to hold onto the hope that at any point he would open his eyes, tell her that he loved her, and be okay.

But at five o'clock the next afternoon, she knew that it wasn't going to happen.

As the doctors shut off the ventilator that was breathing for him, she sat down on the bed and held his hand to her cheek, stroking his face as he struggled for a few breaths, then finally gave up. A shrill whine filled her ears, and she leaned down, gently kissing his cool lips. Then she stood up and stumbled out of the room as the doctor called his time of death.

At the end of the hall, Theresa Quinn was holding her husband and waiting on word of his partner when she saw Alex, and she tensed. They both knew he was gone. When she got close enough, Theresa reached out and gently took Alex by the elbow. "Alex... Alex, I'm so sorry..." she mumbled, at a loss for anything else to say. She was just so grateful that it hadn't been her Kevin.

Alex pulled away and stumbled away from them, lost in her own grief. After two years of wedded bliss, she was a widow. Even surrounded by people, she had never, ever felt so alone.

There was no way she could get through this without him. He had always been there for her to lean on, and now he was gone. She had no one else that she could do the same with, so she was on her own. She straightened up, squaring her shoulders and wiping her tears away as she ignored Kevin calling her name. He wouldn't want her to be crying like this over him. He would want her to be strong, to get on with her life. And she would.

She had never been very religious, but she had to believe that he was somewhere better, somewhere that he could watch over her. And she didn't want him to see her falling apart completely. She was strong. She had gotten along without him before, and she could do it again.

She shoved the door open and walked outside, scrubbing at her face as she pulled herself together. She had a funeral to plan and a house that she needed to clean. There would be an appropriate time to cry later, when she was alone in her bedroom that night. Only then would it be acceptable. She unlocked her car and climbed into the passenger's seat, then started the car and gripped the steering wheel tightly. She had to keep it together.

She would be okay, eventually.

Joe would want her to.

The End.

A/N: What did I tell you guys? I cried while writing it. It's definitely not like anything I've ever written, so I'm proud. Thanks for reading, and please remember to review and let me know what you guys thought!


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